Mary Jane Courage
by Cyrelia J
Summary: A stoned Canada attempts to hit on Germany in a bar with a little [er make that a lot of] help from America. It doesn't go as planned. Inspired by a fellow author's love of Germany/Canada and a half desire to see something similar (but not this I'm sure O o)


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters. I'm also not making any money off of this.

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Canada still wasn't certain- as he stepped towards the dimly lit bar of the hotel- which was the more unlikely happening of this evening. Was it America's offer to light one up after 40 years of being a complete drug hating hard ass or was it the fact that he and America were both half sneaking into hotel bar just so he could hit on Germany. _No... that sounds way to crass. Isn't that what Francis would say? He would say you should be more elegant in your approach, more dignified more... _Canada blinked trying to remember, still holding onto the frame of the door as America pushed at him from behind.

"C'mon, bro, what happened to 'yeah I totally want to get into his pants?' Are you wussing out on me now?"

Canada thoughtfully took another puff of the happy little vaper that looked quite handily like an e-cig and bowed his head shoving at him.

"Y'know Al..." He looked at the white tank top he was wearing along with the pajama pants and bare feet. "Maybe... ya think he might..." He gave a vague wave of his hand to where Germany sat drinking, slightly pink faced but nonetheless perfectly put together and stiff backed while Austria slumbered across the table from him half laying on Prussia from the side. "I mean maybe... like should I be wearing shoes or something?" He looked around the signage for any indicator of shoes, shirt or service but didn't seem to find any.

"Dude, it's like 1 in the morning, lemme slip the guy behind the bar a little good luck courtesy of Mr. Franklin and we'll be in like totes Mc Goats."

"Mc what? You can't be thinking about another Mc Donald's run, Al, didn't Arthur take your keys and shove them down his pants before he passed out?" Canada half giggled and leaned against the wall at that mental image. England wasn't driving, neither was America, or so the drunken England had proclaimed. He was more than likely still passed out in their room now that Canada thought about it and that was neither here nor there so...

"Stupid Arthur I hope he chokes on that- holy shit he's turning this way!"

America speared him like Goldberg on Monday Nitro just as Germany looked about to turn in their direction. Canada was thankful the bar entrance was nowhere near the lobby as ridiculous as the two of them must look.

"Dammit, Al, if you're trying to be subtle then-"

"Shhh-" America half shushed half spit in his face raising a finger to his lips. Canada glared at him sitting up from the floor shoving him off.

"IfIhadahockeystickrightnowyou'dbeso-"

"Shhh shhh okay okay I like..." America trailed off taking a deep breath to compose himself. "I got this Mattie I like so got this."

Canada crawled back to the door on hands and knees thinking somehow that it would be far better to be stealthy from below. America crawled behind him peering over his shoulders like some sort of cartoon.

"Okay so..." his whisper was more like Canada's normal speaking voice but between the various channels of ESPN it was swallowed up easily inside the bar itself. "So I checked around 'cause I'm seriously badass like that and yeah Ludwig is so not banging Roddy-"

"He'd kill you if you called him that to his face, Al."

"Yeah well he's too busy half giving Gilbert in there a somnambulant handjob so I don't think-"

"You never think."

"Yeah who's the one crawling around on the floor in their jammies?"

"Both of us?" Canada looked at him. They looked at each other and sat back in a fit of hand over mouth giggles.

Canada could fee his chest heave, feel himself drooling all over his sweaty palms the harder he laughed but something about the entire situation was just so...

"Dude you're not even wearing shoes."

"You're not even wearing underwear."

"There's no way you could-" Canada pointed to the Rocky Mountains popping out to say hello from beneath his athletic shorts and America shifted quickly to his knees almost falling over.

"'kay you so didn't see that..." He looked inside again. "But like I was saying bro he's totally available. And you're my twin. And I'm like on a scale of am I hot or not like an 11 so you've got this in the bag like-"

"Like your nuts..." Canada half choked the dirty quip out covering his mouth again as he too shifted back to just his knees. "This is probably a terrible idea, right?"

"Hey it was my idea-"

"It was _my_ idea, Al."

"Yeah yeah twins, remember, your idea, my idea, your land, my land, your weed..." America took a hit off the vaper around Canada's neck with a happy sigh. Canada thought sometimes his brother was really too cute when he wasn't being an obnoxious asshole. "Yeah good idea, bad idea, tell you what..." America stood brushing himself off motioning for Canada to do the same. "I'll totally be your wingman."

"I thought you hated that show."

"'Cause it sucks buuuut... But but but I'll be your support okay. You go I go, like right behind you or something. I'll be like that dude with the nose."

"Ivan?" Canada smirked and America snickered.

"Cyrano, maple breath." America nodded and Canada breathed into his hand giving a paranoid sniff. Wait, was maple breath even a bad thing? "So c'mon, you can totally do this. Hey I just met you, this is crazy, here's my number, let me suck you off in the bathroom."

Canada tried to remember as America cajoled him further inside if that was really how that song went but seeing Germany turn almost as soon as he was in the bar to look at him, Canada really didn't care.

"Yeah that's what I'm talking about it, gopher it Mattie." America didn't exactly give him much choice as he pushed and steered him like a forklift to the small table. Germany was definitely looking at him or America... or possibly the two of them half staggering in their bedclothes across the noisy bar but that was neither here nor there.

"So ah..." Canada gave him his best America-esque grin putting both hands on the table as America nearly plowed him- er into him from behind. "Is this seat taken?"

Germany stared at him for a long confused while and that confusion only seemed to grow on his face when America quite loudly whispered, "you've so got this in the bag, Mattie."

"There ah... is no seat," Germany offered and Canada looked down rather dumbly to see that yes there was in fact nowhere else to sit.

"Huh... yeah ya don't-"

"Kesesese oh man, kid are you for real? You might as well make a pass at a-"

"Hey, Gilbert..." America offered reaching around Canada to holding up the vaper enticingly. "I'll let you have this if you take Roddy there and et-gay ost-lay." Prussia looked to Germany.

"Hey west, he just call me a queer?"

"Ah so anyway..." Canada continued determined not to let America or Prussia or anything else get in his way. "I noticed you sitting here and-"

"So tell me, Macho Man, what kinda straight guy sticks it in Roddy Piper there?"

"Al, we're all pretty pansexual here so shuttupandgo'way and yeah Ludwig... you... ohmygodAl did you make sure he's not with Feliciano?!"

"A guy with taste, that's who."

Gilbert stood up. America stood up straighter. Austria fell on the floor in a passed out heap. Germany kept sitting and kept blinking between Canada and the nearly empty mug of beer in his hand.

"Perhaps we should continue this when there aren't so many distractions or-" Canada grabbed the mug and downed the last of the beer with the same shiver as a cat tasting something especially foul.

"Hookay now that that's out of the way-"

"That's not what I ah... brother this is not-" _Now_ Germany stood after another barrage of insults that Canada wasn't even trying to pay attention to. Prussia and America were fighting like... Canada stared. Like girls actually. The two of them slap fought one drunk one stoned, one Austrian on the floor dead to the world. The Rocky Mountains made another appearance only to be hit with an avalanche at the apex. Canada giggled.

"Drink and the devil had done for the rest eh?"

He turned back to Germany and tried- eh really tried- to stifle the giggling amidst the serious expression but there was just something about that stalwart countenance that made him unable to stop.

"We really should-" Germany looked out of his depth, hands on Canada's shoulders as if to move him and save his brother's dignity if nothing else but Canada planted himself like the mighty maple, _is__ maple breath bad?! _and blocked the way with a lazy smile.

"We really should get to know each other. Er... you really should... You're a big guy, aren't you?" Canada squeezed Germany's bicep with a duck of his head an another giggle. Germany's face turned pink to the ears in response and his voice was several octaves higher as he stammered out,

"Who are you?"

In answer, Canada leaned in with a sloppy stealth attack kiss and half missed the mouth but made up for it with a swipe of wet tongue to his lips, tasting way more beer but definitely as much Germany as he hoped. He tilted his head, tried again, ignored the crash behind him and just focused on the crash in his head as he sucked at Germany's lower lip, half nibbling, panting softly when fingers curled harder into his shoulders. Canada hit his target this time a teasing tap of tongue to teeth parting Germany's mouth preciously further and allow him to just, breathe, into it. So yeah maybe he'd give him a half contact from however many puffs ago but as Germany pulled back breathing heavily, still confused, Canada just shot him another goofy smile. _I'm Canada. _

"That's who."


End file.
